


No Blankets Keep Me Warm Like You Do

by wildheartwhispers



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Clumsy!Stiles, Derek mocks him fondly, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing! Finally kissing!, M/M, Minor accidential self injury, Stiles Takes Care Of Derek, sick!Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1886868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildheartwhispers/pseuds/wildheartwhispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has a fever and Stiles takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sterek fic ever, and it came to be after my dear wifey, Kristy (aka pretty-stiles on tumblr) asked if I thought werewolves could get sick. As it is, I don't think so, what with the super healing and all, but I couldn't help but write this little Human!AU thingy here.
> 
> As I said, this is my first Sterek piece, and it is rather short. So, please, be kind. Hope you'll enjoy!

"Hey, I made you some soup", Stiles said softly as he sat down on the bed beside where Derek laid buried under a heap of blankets.  
Derek groaned, a low sound in his throat.  
"Come on, big guy. Sit up, you should eat some", Stiles insisted with a small smile.  
"My throat hurts", Derek muttered, and earned a chuckle.  
"Soup will help. My mom always made me this when I was sick as a kid, so trust me on this one."  
Derek glared a little at the lanky young man before finally giving in and wriggling up into a somewhat sitting position. "Fine, but I'm not moving out from the blankets."  
Stiles eyes glittered mischievously at that.  
"Open up."  
"What?", Derek croaked out.  
"Open your mouth, so I can feed you the soup."  
Derek whined pathetically, feeling a blush creeping up on his cheeks and ears.  
He didn't like being sick, and he certainly didn't like feeling this small and vulnerable. Even if it was only Stiles here.  
Stiles, who had proven, multiple times, that he didn't care what situations he caught the man in (he had a vicious talent for getting into unfortunate situations, okay), he would always be kind and help, even if he had to sometimes bite down a laugh before doing so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles almost dies. Or, at least, that's what he claims.

"Uh... Derek?", Stiles called out faintly from out in the garden.  
"What?", Derek shouted back, wondering if he would have to get up from his nap time on the couch.  
"I kind of cut myself... Could you, uh, come please? I'm not feeling so well..."  
Derek frowned to himself as he rose from the couch, hurriedly making his way out the back porch, catching a glimpse of Stiles' brown mess of hair behind the rose bushes.  
"What are you doing?", he asked as he rounded the high, thorny plants.  
Stiles was sitting on the ground looking pale, staring at his own outstretched hand, where a drop of blood slowly trailed its way down his forefinger. "I think I'm bleeding out", Stiles stated dazedly.  
Derek sighed, a little exasperated, but couldn't help a soft smile.  
"Don't be ridiculous", he told Stiles, but stretched out his hand to him. "Come on. Let's get you inside so I can put your torn body together again."  
"Don't you mock me, big guy! I am wounded over here", Stiles pouted, even as he let himself get pulled up and gently dragged into the house.

After Derek had rinsed the blood off of Stiles' finger and wrapped it in a tissue, he went to the bathroom to fetch a band aid. When he came back, Stiles was curled up on the couch, looking at Derek with big, brown, deer eyes.  
"Feel better?", Derek asked with a small smirk.  
Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, stretched out his finger. "Actually, yes", the younger man said fake defiantly. "And it might get even better once you finally put that damn band aid on", he added, with a familiar glint in his eyes.  
"Oh, yeah?", Derek inquired, sitting down on the couch beside Stiles, smirk growing. "Better for you or for me?", he continued, as he pulled away the tissue and gently put the real bandage on. Derek didn't let go of his boyfriend, though, instead taking his whole hand into his. Stiles winded their fingers together.  
"For both", he determined, smiling sweetly and leaning forward, not so subtly looking at the older man's lips.  
Derek, unable to ever resist this enticing guy - who had actually chosen to become his - met him halfway, capturing Stiles' soft mouth with his own.

Derek didn't think either of them would ever get tired of kissing each other. Every time was as good as a first, whether it be soft, passionate, slow or urgent, sloppily making out or just a light peck. They just never could get enough.  
As they kissed, Stiles smiled against his lips, and Derek leaned back a little, just to look at him.

Dragging a hand through Stiles' hair and down to rest at the side of his neck, Derek asked: "How did you even manage to cut yourself?", a little puzzled now that he actually though about it.  
"Well. I was trying to cut the rose bushes a little, you see, I've read a lot about how you need to cut to keep them a decent size, not to let them grow too big. You know, and I read about how to go about cutting the twigs. But the damn twig wouldn't come off, so I tried to wiggle it loose with my left hand while I was cutting with the garden clipper, and then suddenly there was just a lot of blood", Stiles rambled. Looking at Derek, his expression clouded a little.  
"Hey! Don't laugh!", he exclaimed. "I was almost dying out there!", although a smile was creeping onto his face, unstoppable, while he spoke.  
At that, Derek couldn't hold back his chuckle. Letting it out, he ducked to the side as Stiles halfheartedly swatted at him with his good hand.  
"Keep laughing, you heathen! But you wouldn't have been so happy if you had lost me, you can't deny that."  
"Not denying it", Derek smiled, ducking his head. As if that would lessen the butterflies he still got in his stomach, from the stupid grin he knew Stiles was sending in his direction. He was still so ridiculously in love with the guy.  
The older man couldn't resist looking almost immediately again, though, loving how his boyfriend's whole face was lit up, just by watching him.

Stiles leaned in and kissed Derek again, pressing his whole body against Derek's heat and muscles, never really getting close enough. He threaded his fingers through the man's hair, when Derek moved lower and pressed his face against the crook of Stiles' neck, stubble rasping pleasantly. Stiles closed his eyes with a content sigh.  
"I love you, you big mountain man. Even when you mock me. Which is all the time, so I think that says a lot."  
Derek huffed out a breath against Stiles' neck, his lips tickling as he spoke:  
"I love you, too, idiot."

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome critisism - anything to help improve my writing! - but not hate of any kind.


End file.
